


Fireflies

by wallofwindows



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2009 Era (Phandom), Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 06:35:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16090076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wallofwindows/pseuds/wallofwindows
Summary: A 2009 Phan fic about their first meeting featuring Dan having a crisis about his feelings for Phil.Angst and train station fluff.





	Fireflies

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks phinalphantasy7 for betaing this! 
> 
> (This was originally for PBB 2017).

Words never really came that easily to Dan, despite how he and his acquaintances liked to joke about him being articulate. He could talk about some meaningless subject for hours on end with a limited amount of word jumbles, sure. When it came to explaining his emotions though, he’d consider himself lucky if he could string together a sentence that could even slightly resemble what he had intended to say.

Except, he didn’t seem to have this problem when talking to Phil. He just made everything seem so easy. As cheesy as it sounded, he was his best friend and closest confidant, and he could talk to him about almost anything without a second thought. 

Until, both suddenly and not so much so, he couldn’t. 

________________________

 

Dan wasn’t overly surprised when things did start to change. He was a pessimist and generally expected that most of the good things that happened to him would come to an end; he assumed the good thing that was the ease between him and Phil would be no exception to this rule. What did catch him off guard though, was the manner in which these changes occurred. The feeling of being tongue tied didn’t return, which was what Dan had come to expect. The knots from his tongue decided to trick him and instead manifested in his stomach. 

He wasn’t sure how to feel about this new development, but he did determine that this feeling didn’t infuriate him in the way that the tongue ties did. Dare he say that he actually was fond of this? He wasn’t quite certain about that. Another thing that he wasn’t completely sure about was if knots were the best way to describe the relentless fluttering and warmth filling his ribcage. Knots implied tightness to him, and honestly whatever was buzzing around his chest felt like it was going to escape through the gaps in his ribcage and flutter into his mind and body at any given moment. It seemed to be anything but tight. He almost wanted to call this feeling butterflies, but that didn’t sound quite right either; he was afraid of butterflies and anything of that variety, and though this feeling did resemble a nervousness of some sort, it didn’t feel like fear. To him, the best word to describe these metaphorical things within his chest would be fireflies. It seemed right to him, carrying the fluttering feeling on their wings while capturing the idea of warmth with mention of fire. He had to say that he hadn’t felt something quite like this before, which made it feel kind of rare and a little bit magical. He had always thought about fireflies like that as well, having only ever seen fireflies once on a family holiday, which only made this term seem more fitting. Of course, he could be completely off track with this idea, this label. He didn’t doubt that.

To be honest, he was starting to get a bit overwhelmed. He was never one who was great at understanding his own emotions in the first place, or for that matter, anyone else's. He felt so much but couldn’t begin to grasp it all. Really, Phil was better at this type of thing, and it was something Dan had started to find that he adored about him. He was so fantastic at comprehending exactly what he was feeling and putting it into words, it was second nature to him. Usually Dan would discuss anything of this manner with him. But, that was just the problem. He couldn’t talk to him about the dilemma he was dealing with, because this feeling from what he could tell, was in relation to him. Theoretically speaking, he could always discuss it pretending it was about somebody or something else, but with the way the fireflies were, he didn’t trust that they wouldn’t wreak havoc and push words up his throat and out of his mouth that he didn’t mean to or aim to say.

Then again, what exactly was he so afraid of saying to him? What was he so afraid of confessing? 

That kind of lead him to his next question regarding this entire mess. Why exactly was Phil making these fireflies manifest in the first place? What did these freaking creatures even signify? Dan couldn’t even begin to comprehend that. Or maybe, just maybe, he could? Frankly, yet again, he wasn’t completely certain. He did know for a fact that whatever the “answer” to this mess might be, he really didn’t have the time, the energy or the intention of finding out, at least not in that moment. He needed to focus on work, and on getting his life together. The fireflies could wait ‘til later. So, he figured he’d at least attempt to ignore everything, as per usual, and hoped that that the fireflies would fizzle out of existence. Or at least, like 70 percent of him of him hoped.

_________________________

 

After a few weeks, he had almost started getting used to the little buzzing nuisances. Almost. As he settled into the feeling he also settled into their name, fireflies. He couldn’t really explain it, as per usual, but it just worked for him. Just because he’d named them didn’t mean that he intended for them to stick around though. He hoped for quite the opposite, actually. He had to admit that they weren’t entirely unpleasant creatures (or whatever the were, he didn’t give two shits anymore).That being said, they were getting to be more difficult to ignore, meaning that sooner or later, he’d have to face reality and admit to something or other, something that he was more than a bit aware of, but wasn’t really sure he felt like dealing with. So, he was kind of suspended in this weird void of uncertainty and faked bewilderment. He still figured that it would be easier if these fireflies would blur out with the pixels of Phil’s face at the end of their skype calls, or better yet entirely. It would save him some stress. 

But at the same time, he was beginning to wonder if it would really be that much better. He attempted to brush that thought away as soon as it popped into his head, cursing the damn fireflies for probably the thousandth time. He hoped that the thought would quickly fizzle with the incessant and ever growing fluttering, but a very small part of him was beginning to nearly embrace all of it, to embrace this chaos, all for Phil. But only nearly. He reminded himself that he wouldn’t give in. After all, these were fireflies, and fireflies eventually fade out, right?

_________________________

 

He was becoming more and more aware that he needed to start sorting things out. As much as he dreaded it, he knew he’d eventually have to “battle” the tiny theoretical winged bosses. He also had to make a mental note to joke with Phil over how much his little creative tendencies were rubbing off on Dan. That reminded him, Phil was the issue at hand. More specifically, whatever emotions he was feeling towards him. After all, there were only two weeks until he’d be meeting Phil in real life. He was excited beyond belief for that, but as of recently he was a rather unresolved mess of emotions, and he worried that it really wouldn’t do him or Phil any good to meet while he was like that. At this point, he’d not-so-willingly come to the realization that none of this was going to just fade away.

As a rather stubborn person he hated to admit it, but he was finding that these fireflies weren’t such a horrible thing after all. He did have to note that from the start he had grudgingly agreed that with them the fireflies would bring a feeling of warmth, and if he was being entirely truthful, he was rather fond of that. The thing he continued to struggle to come to terms with was that these feelings of warmth were caused by Phil. They were for Phil. He didn’t know if he was ready to face that quite yet, and that scared him. Alas, he didn’t have the time to be scared, as time was something he was kind of running out of. He had to deal with everything, he had to deal with his ever intensifying emotions. But he couldn’t yet. Or could he? Confusion continued, as it always seemed to with him. He’d grown used to it, but it pissed him off endlessly. 

_________________________

 

Many people regard time as simply a construct, himself included, but fucking hell, this construct was causing him a ton of stress. There was only a week left until he was meeting Phil. One week. 7 days. 168 hours. 10080 minutes. 604800 seconds. A rather brief amount of construct in the grand scheme of things. Predictably, the clock was ticking down fast, the fireflies were gaining momentum faster.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t looking forward to to meeting him: he was excited for that beyond belief. He couldn’t wait for his best friend to become more than a face through a pixelated screen, more than a voice sounding from a mediocre speaker. He was ready for the two of them to be free to whisper ‘til 3am without worrying about steady wifi signal or a stupid cell service tower, with feet or inches in between them instead of hundreds of miles and two shitty computer screens. He was ready for Phil to truly be something tangible to him, and he needed him to be there with him more than he needed anything else in the world. 

There was a downfall of Phil becoming tangible, though. The issue with the whole Phil being tangible thing was that it would make everything more “real”. It would mean that he was going to have to face the fact that these fireflies, or whatever ridiculous thing he’d decided to call them, existed and meant something or other. He’d also have to the fact that he had an inkling of what that meaning was, even if he tried impossibly hard to deny it in fear of fucking everything up. He’d have to address that the feelings that he had for Phil had long ago started to melt the lines between platonic and romantic.

If he was being entirely honest, their relationship had not-so-recently been starting to blur those lines as well. It was kind of ridiculous for him to disregard the way the two of them flirted back and forth, online for the world to see, yes, but also in their messages and calls to each other, in hushed tones for nobody else to here. 

It was the way that they acted more privately that really threw him off. Though some people might think that loud confessions would feel more genuine, more official, for him the quiet ones felt much more meaningful and that he treasured the most. He also couldn’t deny that every time Phil so much ended a text with a tiny heart or called him cute, it felt like all the fireflies in his chest lit up at once, something that most wouldn’t expect from such a small gesture. 

The more he thought about it, the more the word fireflies was a perfect description, for the feeling, yes, but also for their chemistry. He’d been so focused on the sensation itself that he hadn’t sat back to notice how well it described the way they interacted. The connection he had was Phil was unlike any he’d experienced before. It was special, it was rare, it was beautiful, just like fireflies, at least in his eyes. They had a unique kind of energy flitting between them, igniting sparks in their existence akin to the ones fireflies leave in the skies of spring and summer nights. He was glad they hadn’t faded. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that fireflies never really die out. Though they might disappear in the eyes of one person, there is always another one sparkling in the eyes of someone else. He was also realizing that he was more than okay with this, that he had come to really like them. 

That being said, he wasn’t quite as happy with the uncertainty they carried on their wings.

Dan could say with complete certainty that he cared about Phil, he cared about more about Phil than just about anything or anyone else. It was obvious. He knew that the way he cared for him didn’t feel like it was entirely platonic. But he wasn’t certain about anything else. He wasn’t certain if Phil cared about him in the same way, or if he just saw Dan as another close friend. He wasn’t certain of what it would entail if he stopped tiptoeing around the fact that he might want Phil to be something more than a friend. He wasn’t certain how or if he could go about telling him, or how it might destroy him if he did and Phil didn’t feel the same way. How would it impact them if that happened? Would they go on being friends, or would it be too painful?

Yes, it was possible (and he liked to think it was more than a bit likely) that Phil might have a thing for him. It seemed evident in the way he acted with Dan. But it could also just be his friendly nature. So, what was he supposed to do but continue to wonder?

Dan wasn’t a great sleeper as it was, but this mess wasn’t helping. He didn’t mind staying up late to skype Phil ‘til far too late of an hour, it was very enjoyable. Worrying was not though, and more and more lately, he found himself up late doing such.This night seemed to be a particularly bad one. Not for the first time he wished he could just shut his thoughts off for a bit, but he knew that he couldn’t, so the wish was to no avail. 

The thought of losing Phil was completely unbearable to him. He’d gotten so lucky to even be a part of his life in the first place, and he wouldn’t want to waste that opportunity. So, he decided, he’d rather torture himself with pining for him, if that’s what these fireflies entailed (and he had started to believe that was more than a bit likely). He’d much prefer to be some cliche stereotype than risk having to say goodbye to whatever it was that the two of them had together. He just hoped, more than anything, that he wouldn’t mess things up.

Knowing his track record with that kind of thing made him more than a bit wary. He’d fucked up everything with his ex girlfriend Erin from a slip-up. He’d meant to say I love you to her, but said Phil instead. At the time he hadn’t been quite sure why. He was starting to figure that out now. It was an empty statement towards her. He’d fallen out of love (if that’s what they’d had in the first place), long before that day. But he’d realized that he didn’t feel quite as empty when Phil’s name was there. In fact, he’d been filled with a swarm of fireflies. In the end that slip up had been for the best. He and Erin had been doomed for a while, they’d just been to stubborn to admit it. So, he thought, maybe a slip up wouldn’t be that horrible. He didn’t want to get his hopes up though.

He figured it was time to stop losing literal sleep over this whole mess, to quit worrying and just let “life” and “fate” run their courses. Sadly, for him, it wasn’t nearly as simple as that. Letting such forces as those decide his relationships and his reality wasn’t an idea he was fond of. On top of that, his brain seemed to hate him, so he couldn’t just turn his thoughts off. As he saw it, that really only left him with one option: he’d just have to keep stressing until he eventually screwed up or somehow reached a resolution. He had a fairly pleasant resolution in mind, but tried to brush it off knowing how unlikely it was for it to come into reality. But that was okay. He was going to be okay. Everything would be okay, as long as Phil stayed a part of his life. He had to keep reminding himself that. Sure, one person couldn’t solve every problem, couldn’t cure his anxiety. He was well aware of that, he’d relied on that hope in past relationships to no avail and had come to mature enough to understand that. Phil, no matter how wonderful he was, no matter how much Dan cared about him, would not be an exception. That being said,he did make him feel a bit more at peace, a little bit less afraid. Add that to his subliminal list of reasons he admired Phil, which tied right back to the root problem. Who knew that one person could make things so easy, yet so hard. He wished that it could just be easy, but he knew that life was a bit of, to put it gently, a bitch, and it didn’t really work that way, that nicely. He’d have to be living in some sort of impossible dream world to expect that. He yearned to be there but the word impossible was, well, a minor roadblock.

For a short while longer, the same worries and thoughts continued to linger, replaying themselves in his head like an irritating, monotonous song. Eventually though, his eyes fluttered shut and he drifted off into the dreamland he’d wish to be in before, if only for a short while.

The scenery shifted from his dull, off-white ceiling he’d viewed through teary eyes a few seconds earlier, into darkness for a brief moment, and then into a world much like his own. Except, things were different. For some reason that he couldn’t even begin to explain, this place seemed much more vivid, focused and lively. On top of that, the setting changed. No longer was he in his bedroom. Instead he stood on the platform at Manchester-Piccadilly station, a place he’d visited many times in brevity throughout his childhood adventures. This time though, his mum was nowhere to be found. She wasn’t there holding his hands and guiding him through the crowd like they’d done in past, he was much too old for that, but there did seem to be somebody else’s hand intertwined with his own. 

This hand felt foreign to him, yet a tiny bit familiar, as if it was meant to hold his. It was bit colder than his own, likely because the person they belonged to had been waiting in the chilly train station, waiting for his arrival. They were shaky, but it felt less like a shiver and more like nerves. Come to think of it, his hands were a bit shaky too, and understandably so. He could feel a racing heart beat through the thumb of the hand, much like his own. Without even looking, he could tell that these hands were Phil’s.

He’d only seen these hands through a camera before, whenever Phil would wildly gesticulate in the midst of one of his unusual yet fascinating tales of his everyday life. It sounded kind of weird to say, but he had to admit that it felt nicer holding them in his own instead of seeing them as a collection of quickly moving pixels. They were much more comforting this way. He didn’t know what their interlocking fingers really said in describing the terms of their relationship, but whatever it meant, he didn’t want it to end. The fireflies were fluttering wildly in his chest, and he didn’t mind that at all. They only made him feel happier. In that moment, the bit of worry that they often brought along with them was non-existent. It felt like he had nothing to be on edge about, like he had reached some sort of resolution, maybe even the one he had subliminally started to hope for, without the stress of a slip up. It seemed to good to be true. 

It was too good to be true.

Dan snapped to the realization that this moment of bliss and calm was a dream, a vivid one, but a dream nonetheless. 

With that, he lost grip on Phil’s hand and faded back into the real world and into consciousness, even more quickly than he had slipped into the alternate reality that he had so greatly enjoyed. When he opened his eyes he found that the same ceiling he had been glaring at before was there, staring back down at him. Again he looked at it through tears, but these tears were a bit different than before. These tears were made of the twinges of joy that remained from his dreamland, mixed with anger and sadness from being jolted out of it into a more harsh reality. These tears tasted bittersweet instead of just plain salty, which felt like an improvement, if only small. Bits and pieces of the worry that had run in streams down his face earlier still stuck around, though they were much less intense, and they didn’t sting him in the way they had before . Maybe, just maybe, this was because he had a little tiny hint of hope floating around with the fireflies now, left over from the fondness he felt when imaginary him held imaginary Phil’s hand in his own. By no means did that little hint solve everything, or very much at all, but it made him realize that things might actually be okay for once. It further confirmed some of the sneaking suspicions he’d been having for a while, but he found that he was okay with that. Okay was becoming a comfort word for him right now. He wasn’t perfect, nor was his life, and he didn’t ever expect to be or feel that way, but okay was more achievable, and okay was enough. It was enough for him, and maybe enough for Phil, too. He didn’t want to get his hopes up too much, but the little piece of hope floating around was starting to gain momentum with the fireflies. Not that he really minded. Maybe he liked the fireflies, after all.

His day wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t horrible either. He was still a wee bit overwhelmed emotionally because of the dream and physically because he hadn’t slept enough. The hope remained though, offering him a bit of drive and motivation. Something was different, and though he couldn’t put a finger on it, he could tell that whatever it was was positive. He had a long shift at work to cover for what he’d be missing while meeting Phil, so didn’t get a chance to really talk to him. This actually might have been for the better. He still worried, he still stressed, but he was doing fine. That night, he slept well for the first time in awhile.

Throughout the next day, he managed to pin down what seemed so different. He came to the realization that the dream, as shitty as it felt when he first woke up from it, was a bit of a blessing in disguise. There was no massive, dramatic change in his life or situation, but he was feeling a bit more at ease than usual. He could think of Phil again without a massive cloud of doubt and denial forming and clogging up his mind. When he stripped back that cloud, he realized Phil was a source of unadulterated joy. The fireflies appeared quite frequently, as per usual, but he found that he was actually starting to be able to enjoy them instead of immediately freezing up and stressing. Okay was a comfort word, but for the first time in a while, he felt more than okay. He could get used to that.

He logged on to skype with a happier-than-usual outlook. His heart was fluttering more than a bit when he dialed Phil, this time not from worry as much as from fondness. When Phil picked up, a smile was plastering Dan’s face. It wasn’t unusual for him to be smiling in Phil’s presence, but this time it felt somehow more genuine. It felt different. It wasn’t quite the same as before the times that the fireflies appeared, because though he was fond of him before, it wasn’t in quite the same manner. It also wasn’t like the rest of the calls he’d had with Phil after the fireflies had shown up, because those had been peppered with a lot of worry. This one was not worry or anxiety free, nor would he ever be, Phil or no Phil, dream or no dream, but it was better than usual. It seemed that it didn’t take Phil very long to take notice. Almost immediately after the call started, Phil started gushing about how cute Dan’s dimples were whenever he smiled. He commented on how cheerful he seemed and how happy it made him that Dan was happy. This immediately sent a blush through his cheeks and widened his smile. He felt incredibly proud of himself. There were still multiple times where he got overwhelmed but Phil was patient and caring, and he was making progress. This time, when Phil’s face faded from the screen in the depths of the night, he was glad that the fireflies stayed.

He slept even better than he had the night before.

_________________________

 

There was more progress to be made, he was well aware. There were still fears to face, too many for him to even count. That being said, he’d hit a huge milestone. There were two more days until he met Phil, and he was counting down the hours. The catch was that he wasn’t counting down with concern, he was counting down because he was elated that he was finally going to meet Phil. That was quite the change from a few weeks ago where it was almost a 50/50 balance of dread and excitement. Many of the same worries still floated in the back of his mind, but they weren’t as present, as prevalent. The thought of “what if you slip up” is countered by “maybe you want to slip up”. The “what if he doesn’t like you” is met with a “what if he does?”. For many this might be considered a simple thing, but for him it was a huge leap forward. The bit of hope had grown, and with it grew a bit of pride in the steps he’d taken. Had he been told a few weeks ago that he’d be feeling the way he did, he’d be, let’s say, rather incredulous. Yet here he was, two days away and thought he was more than ready. 

But, in the back of his mind, he knew that life had a tendency of not letting him off so easily.

Packing wasn’t really something he had thought about much beforehand, but it was going to be kind of necessary. It was a harder than he expected it to be, and it wasn’t really because of the clothes. Packing made everything more real and more immediate. He’d obviously felt this before when it came to prepping for family trips, but it didn’t have the same kind of impact on him then. He was so excited for Phil to be real, for him to be there to hold and to see with his own two eyes, but the thought of that also brought some of the issues that had been lurking in the depths of his brain back to the surface. A process that he intended to take him a maximum of half an hour ended up taking five, and cost him more than just his time. It cost him a lot of his energy, leaving him drained, both emotionally and physically. It cost him some of his confidence, because he couldn’t help but worry about it happening again. Last but most importantly, It cost him the air of calmness that had been floating around him over the past few days. His suitcase was more than a bit of a mess, as was mind. 

Packing was hard for him, but he made it through. He knew he would have rough times, that not everything was fixed. He was a human after all. A human who cared a lot about another human. A human who always had been a bit afraid of messing up. Yet, he knew that that was what humans do, and it was okay, so he kept on moving along. He was learning to become a little more human. He was learning to be unafraid of making mistakes, and it was taking time, but that was okay. He was okay. Okay was still his comfort word. Someday he’d be more than okay, and he’d find a new one, but he figured that for now okay was okay.He guessed that the day after tomorrow would be one of those days. but if it wasn’t, he was certain some other day would be. Maybe there would be a person (maybe one named Phil Lester) who helped him with that, maybe there wouldn’t be. He’d make mistakes, but it’d be fine and he would be too. He had a feeling that he and Phil will be more than okay, so he clung to that feeling and tossed it in with the fireflies and the hope and the pride, knowing it would grow. It made him feel a bit more okay. In the end, that’s what mattered.

He didn’t sleep quite as well that night, but that was okay.

The next day passed more quickly than the train that would be carrying him soon.

 

4:31 am. That time was flashing on the cracked face of his semi-functioning alarm clock, mocking his efforts. He wasn’t falling asleep easily, but the reason was rather different than his usual. It was because of one five-letter word that was nagging at his brain. 

Today.

For the most part, the word just made him incredibly happy. He was getting to meet Phil. It was finally happening. But he couldn’t help but also feel nervous. Along with the joy and excitement that was echoing through his brain, some of his doubts were, too. He was doing better than he had been, his anxiety was only a fuzzy static noise instead of the full volume track that had been playing in his brain into the depths of the previous two nights. He figured that the excitement was partially to be credited for pushing his worries to the back of his mind, but he wished it’d do so a bit more. That aside, he was certain that he was ready. He wouldn’t let his thoughts win, he wouldn’t let them get in the way. He wouldn’t let anything ruin his time with Phil. He would be optimistic; that was something that Phil brought out in him, in the midst of his chaos. With that, his mind started to linger, he started imagining just what the next few days would be like. For a little while, he felt much more than okay. He eventually fell asleep, but the fond thoughts didn’t fade. Instead they managed to slide into his subconsciousness along with him and danced around in his dreams, warding away the usual fear and negativity.

Before he knew it, his alarm started blaring, jolting him awake and rudely interrupting a particularly nice musing about him and Phil watching fireworks with fingers intertwined. Glancing at the clock, he saw it was 6:40, way too early of a time for him to even consider getting out of bed. Moderately annoyed, he slammed the snooze button, grumbling at past him for setting it for such an unreasonable hour. He collapsed back into his pillow, closing his eyes and hoping to slip back into his previous dream. This lasted for less than five seconds before he snapped into full consciousness again, realizing exactly why he had set his alarm to go off at the crack of dawn. The same five letter word was occupying his mind again, this time met almost solely with delight. At least for the moment, his worries were non-existent.

In just over 6 hours, he was meeting Phil. He’d never felt so awake.

_________________________

The morning was a blur. It was a tangle of hair straightener wires and luggage and happy texts and anticipation. Before he was able to even begin to process everything that was happening, he was seated on a cold metal bench at the rail station, anxiously awaiting the train that would bring him to Manchester and bring him to Phil. 

He found it rather funny, how only a week or two before he felt that he needed more time, but now his only wish was for it to move faster. Quite a contrast, to say the least. It was interesting how quickly one could change one’s mind when emotions came into play. He was especially good at doing so, not such a shocking thing considering he had a tendency to let emotion guide many of his choices and decisions. 

Sometimes, he wished he wasn’t this way. It’d gotten him hurt in past, it’d gotten him into situations that he should not have had to deal with. It’d lead to many blunders and mistakes. It made him a bit impulsive. But, he decided, that wasn’t always the worst thing. He had always been somebody who loved to live a bit on the edge; it made his life exciting, and he didn’t want things to be any other way. 

Besides, some of the mistakes he’d made had ended up creating wonderful memories and realities. Some others didn’t, but that was okay. He was human, and humans make lots of mistakes. Sometimes, it was worth it for him to be a little bit reckless. Sometimes it wasn’t, but he was willing to face the consequences of that instead of being left wondering what might have been through all his life.

After all, if he weren’t this way, if he were more afraid to live and to take chances, then he probably would’ve never crossed paths with Phil. So that in itself made all the past mistakes worth it.

The sharp screeching of a train arriving jarred him out of his little daze. Usually, the sound would have probably irritated him, but this time around, it had quite the opposite effect. Who knew that such a wretched sound could all of the sudden become almost musical. He practically leapt off the bench from sheer excitement. By doing so, he ended up knocking his suitcase into another traveller. This earned him a rather solid and angry glare. He quickly and half-heartedly apologized, oddly unfazed by the awkward encounter. Usually, he’d be mentally scolding himself for doing something so embarrassing, but this time around, he couldn’t care less. His focus was far into the realm of elsewhere.

He raced to the train, bumping into a few other unsuspecting commuters as he went, though he had to admit that in the moment he had barely taken notice. He would typically have been a bit more considerate and polite about it, but for the time being his own little world. Really, who could blame him for that? 

He settled into a seat near the front entrance of the train, knowing that he’d want to get out as quickly as possible when he got to Manchester. He’d waited for long enough to meet Phil, there was no way he’d do that any more than he had to when he could avoid it.

He was extremely relieved to be on the train. Though there were a couple hours still left on his journey, he felt much closer to reaching his destination and to reaching Phil than even a few moments before. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and grinned, seeing about the four-hundredth text of the morning from Phil pop up. 

“Why can’t teleportation be a thing, like seriously, it’s 2009, we are living in the future!” it read.

Dan bit his cheek in a failed attempt at trying to hold in a bunch of giddy giggles. It was things like this that reminded him exactly why he liked Phil so much. He was geeky, creative and kind, and there was just something about him that was completely and utterly endearing. A few grumpy passengers sent some weird glances his way because of this Phil-induced laughing fit, but he found that could have cared less, he was too caught up in his fondness. 

“Only a few more hours, I promise.” he replied.

He received a heart back in response, and the fireflies started to do their thing. They were already feeling more intense than usual, so he could only barely imagine what they would be like when he and Phil actually met. He returned the heart and along came another wave of glowing and fluttering.

Throughout the ride they continued this little exchange, leaving his heart racing and his cheeks very pink. Somewhere near Coventry, he started listening to a playlist Phil had made just for him. It was quirky and fun, just like Phil. It made him feel a lot closer to him. Near Tamworth a song from of Book of Mormon came on, and he was in a tiny bit in awe at the fact that Phil had remembered how much dan loved the musical. He realized that Phil actually listened to him, he actually gave a damn. As the train chugged on, the pesky little bits of doubt that had been clinging on to his more positive thoughts started to loosen their grips. His mind was still racing like the scenery outside the window, but the wind that carried them became lighter and more soothing. Sure, there were parts of him still worrying about all the things that could go wrong, but they were smaller and whispered instead of screaming at him like they had in past.

He let the rumble of the train lull him to sleep. He dreamed again of Phil’s hand wrapped in his. This time, it felt more steady. The last of his woes faded away. It felt right, and Dan didn't feel the need to fight that feeling anymore.

He was awoken by the squeal of the train pulling into the station. He couldn't get out of the train fast enough. He nearly stumbled over his own feet twice walking down the aisle.  
He stepped off the train and started running. Running toward the boy with blue eyes who was waiting with arms open. Toward his destiny.


End file.
